Reorganizing
"It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change." ~Author unknown
I am certain that no two military quarters on different posts are the same. If I plan a house in Ft Bragg, I can be certain that I will not use the same plan in Ft Leavenworth and so on. This poses a unique set of problems for military families as they move every so many years, the furniture that you have almost never fits in your new quarters.
When we moved from Ft Bragg to Korea we took only a portion of our things and still had trouble fitting it in the quarters we were assigned. The typical military wife is adept at turning a living room piece of furniture into a bedroom piece of furniture. In Korea our ottoman didn't fit with the couches and quickly became a sitting thing at the end of our bed in our bedroom. When we moved from Ft Leavenworth to Germany, our large couches didn't fit in our living room and needed to be separated in order to have room for the dining room that was adjacent to the living room.
It takes about seven months in a place to realize where everything really needs to be. Unfortunately, that time normally coincides with a deployment or TDY or field exercise, leaving the typical military wife with a dilemma. Either move the furniture yourself or wait for your service member to return, all the while living in a house that isn't the way you want it to be. It is precisely that thinking that got me into trouble during the first deployment.
I don't know if it was the lack of another adult in my life that made me feel superhuman. Perhaps it was the false sense of bravado I felt having survived 6 months of a deployment with three kids and a very active Family Readiness Group. Whatever it was, I decided one Sunday morning that I was going to move the queen sized sleeper sofa down a flight of stairs and into the basement. In large t-shirt pajamas, no shoes and obviously no common sense, I convinced our then 8 year old to help me "shimmy" the sofa to the stairwell so I could move it. I assured him that I would be able to steer it down the spiral staircase and into the basement where it was supposed to be. With very little trouble we shimmied the couch to the stairwell and began the downward decent into the basement, me in front of the heavy , large couch and the child behind pushing. Gravity is a mean friend. No sooner had I taken two steps into the stairs had the couch began to follow me, sliding quickly and directly into the wall at the middle of the spiral stairs. The couch wedged itself in the stairwell, under the banister and looming largely with it's back end high in the air. My son and I stared at each other with the couch between us in disbelief. There was no budging it. It took me a few minutes to realize the severity of the situation. Not only had I put a huge gash in the wall of our quarters, but the couch was stuck and the gig was up as I was soon to be found out trying to do something stupid. I was stuck in the stairs with three kids running unsupervised in the house, in my pajamas and definitely needing to call in reinforcements. Our oldest retrieved the phone and I called the one man left in our community who might have the muscles to get me out of my jam and still have the decency to keep my tragedy a secret, our rear detachment Family Readiness Liaison. After a whole lot of laughter, he promised to come over with his wife in tow to help me out. My kids had decided that having a mom in captivity was now a spectator sport and had taken the liberty to pop popcorn and set up shop in the stairwell to watch me as I waited. It wasn't one of my better moments as a mom.
The story ends with the Family Readiness Liaison and his wife saving the day, not until they told me what a lame brained idea my moving was. When Vic returned from downrange and asked how the couch made it downstairs i told him a simple, "it is a long story".
I remembered this story vividly because i just spent thirty minutes shimmying a dresser down the hallway in an effort to reorganize the new house to the way I think it really needs to be. More than one time the momentous feat of what i was doing reminded me of that time several years ago when I thought I'd move a couch. Lucky for me there were no stairs to be dealt with.......
I am certain that no two military quarters on different posts are the same. If I plan a house in Ft Bragg, I can be certain that I will not use the same plan in Ft Leavenworth and so on. This poses a unique set of problems for military families as they move every so many years, the furniture that you have almost never fits in your new quarters.
When we moved from Ft Bragg to Korea we took only a portion of our things and still had trouble fitting it in the quarters we were assigned. The typical military wife is adept at turning a living room piece of furniture into a bedroom piece of furniture. In Korea our ottoman didn't fit with the couches and quickly became a sitting thing at the end of our bed in our bedroom. When we moved from Ft Leavenworth to Germany, our large couches didn't fit in our living room and needed to be separated in order to have room for the dining room that was adjacent to the living room.
It takes about seven months in a place to realize where everything really needs to be. Unfortunately, that time normally coincides with a deployment or TDY or field exercise, leaving the typical military wife with a dilemma. Either move the furniture yourself or wait for your service member to return, all the while living in a house that isn't the way you want it to be. It is precisely that thinking that got me into trouble during the first deployment.
I don't know if it was the lack of another adult in my life that made me feel superhuman. Perhaps it was the false sense of bravado I felt having survived 6 months of a deployment with three kids and a very active Family Readiness Group. Whatever it was, I decided one Sunday morning that I was going to move the queen sized sleeper sofa down a flight of stairs and into the basement. In large t-shirt pajamas, no shoes and obviously no common sense, I convinced our then 8 year old to help me "shimmy" the sofa to the stairwell so I could move it. I assured him that I would be able to steer it down the spiral staircase and into the basement where it was supposed to be. With very little trouble we shimmied the couch to the stairwell and began the downward decent into the basement, me in front of the heavy , large couch and the child behind pushing. Gravity is a mean friend. No sooner had I taken two steps into the stairs had the couch began to follow me, sliding quickly and directly into the wall at the middle of the spiral stairs. The couch wedged itself in the stairwell, under the banister and looming largely with it's back end high in the air. My son and I stared at each other with the couch between us in disbelief. There was no budging it. It took me a few minutes to realize the severity of the situation. Not only had I put a huge gash in the wall of our quarters, but the couch was stuck and the gig was up as I was soon to be found out trying to do something stupid. I was stuck in the stairs with three kids running unsupervised in the house, in my pajamas and definitely needing to call in reinforcements. Our oldest retrieved the phone and I called the one man left in our community who might have the muscles to get me out of my jam and still have the decency to keep my tragedy a secret, our rear detachment Family Readiness Liaison. After a whole lot of laughter, he promised to come over with his wife in tow to help me out. My kids had decided that having a mom in captivity was now a spectator sport and had taken the liberty to pop popcorn and set up shop in the stairwell to watch me as I waited. It wasn't one of my better moments as a mom.
The story ends with the Family Readiness Liaison and his wife saving the day, not until they told me what a lame brained idea my moving was. When Vic returned from downrange and asked how the couch made it downstairs i told him a simple, "it is a long story".
I remembered this story vividly because i just spent thirty minutes shimmying a dresser down the hallway in an effort to reorganize the new house to the way I think it really needs to be. More than one time the momentous feat of what i was doing reminded me of that time several years ago when I thought I'd move a couch. Lucky for me there were no stairs to be dealt with.......
My wife will be happy to know she is not alone...
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Thank you firefinder6! The funny thing is that I swear I told my husband about the couch when he came back from Iraq, but when he read the blog he sure laughed as if he read it for the first time! Have a great day ~Pam
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